


Paris Fashion Week

by biirdkotori



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Amélie is a model, F/M, Hanzo is a fashion designer, Short One Shot, venomous arrow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 06:29:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11754000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biirdkotori/pseuds/biirdkotori
Summary: Fashion AU in which Hanzo is a fashion designer and Amélie his model.





	Paris Fashion Week

**Author's Note:**

> This little bit of Venomous Arrow was written for a friend! If you are interested in more, I do offer commissions, so don't be afraid to contact me :)

Even the night before the show, Hanzo still could not believe that this was actually happening. Still jet lagged, yet fuelled with strong, overpriced coffee, he was going through the final preparations, the final alterations to make sure that his clothes would fall just right on the bodies of the models that he scouted a few days ago for the runway show. His runway show. During Paris Fashion Week. His. Taking a deep breath, Hanzo looked over the seam he had just made in his dress, only to then speak up again.

  
“Let us see if this is any better.”

  
Cutting off the loose thread before turning on his chair, he could see Amélie get up from the end of his hotel bed, stretching her legs before making her way over to him. She had easily been the most beautiful girl of the bunch of models he got to pick from, and matched the aesthetic that his collection possessed. Picking her as the model to end the show and wear his gown had been the most obvious choice, even if her non-standard measurements made things challenging, to the point of him having to call her asking to come over for one final fitting. Thank God she said yes.

  
“You sure like to make a girl wait, monsieur.” Amélie spoke up when she had reached his side, hand effortlessly sliding onto the back of his chair, nails tapping lightly on the wood. “And rob her of her beauty sleep, too.”

  
“And my own. Did you think my grey hairs were a statement?” Hanzo asked in return as he unzips the gown for her, helping her step into it and zipping it up, watching how the dark fabric perfectly frames the large spider on her back, the red of the tattoo in stark contrast. “Months of preparing and now... Ha.” Not continuing that sentence, there is a moment of silence, only for Amélie to break it as she turns towards him.

  
“And now it is just a night’s sleep away, hm?” Arms held out to the side to give Hanzo a good look, her eyes are on him as she speaks, following him as he takes a seat on the floor to check the seam. “In my defence, grey hair is in fashion. Regardless of that, though, it does sound like a break might be in order. If you are going to keep on making clothes like these, I want to keep you around for a while.”

  
With a faint chuckle, Hanzo does not look up from the fabric that he glides between his fingers, checking every inch meticulously. “Rest assured, I am not planning on retiring or dying anytime soon. As for a break, I will be staying in Paris for the rest of the week with that purpose in mind.” There is a pause then as Hanzo pushes himself back onto his feet with a huff, supporting himself on the bed as he does so. “Walk for me?”

  
When Amélie walked, though, it was more like a stride. Long carefully calculated steps and a mild swing to the hips, yet arms static, she showed off strong shoulders and a striking silhouette. Attitude, elegance and chic dripped of off her, especially as she held her pose for a few moments before walking back towards him. To call it just a ‘walk’, did not do her justice.

  
“Did I leave you speechless, monsieur?” The French woman teases, pulling Hanzo away from his thoughts, the action eliciting a quiet laugh from her. “Ah, my apologies, I was not aware that you were daydreaming. Did I stir those ‘creative juices’ of yours?” Amélie’s smile and tone is enough for Hanzo to become flustered, giving her a quick shake of his head.

  
“No, I was merely thinking.”

  
“But you were thinking about me, non?”

  
Cheeks turning a light pink, Hanzo is quick to try and change the subject, gesturing for Amélie to turn around for him. “The dress is perfect, so let’s get you out of it so that we can both still catch some sleep.”

  
“Ouh lá lá, I did not know you were this eager-“ Clearly relishing in the reactions that she’s drawing out of the designer, Amélie teases even further, slowly turning her back towards him. “Perhaps, if we’re quick, we could even fit in something.. Extra before we part ways.”

  
Offer clear, Hanzo is silent as he reaches out for the zipper on the dress, free hand pressing lightly against her upper back as he carefully pulls the zipper down, following Amélie’s curves. Unzipped all the way past her behind, his hand stays on the zipper for another moment, only to then reach up for her shoulders, sliding the dress off of her.

  
“My alarm will go off in less than three hours.” He argues, watching Amélie step out of the dress before zipping up the garment again, turning away to store it away in the garment travel bag. “I doubt I’ll be able to stay up during the show if I spend the night with you.” Hanging up the bag, Hanzo turns towards his model, eyes glancing over her almost naked form before looking back up at her face. “But I should have plenty of time after the show, however.”

  
Letting out a chuckle, Amélie then bends over to pick up her top from the bed, putting it on before closing the distance between the two of them, a somewhat coy smile on her lips, a hand coming to rest on Hanzo’s shoulder, close by the base of his neck. Fingers dipping underneath the hem of his shirt, Amélie then leans down. Pressing her lips to Hanzo’s cheek, the corners of their mouths almost touch as the kiss lingers for a moment, during which Hanzo’s hands find the swell of Amélie’s hips, resting lightly. Then, as sudden as it started, the peck ends, eyes glued onto each other.

  
“Bonsoir, mon petit couturier."


End file.
